


the importance of self-care

by RaeDMagdon



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon, F/F, Lexa (The 100) Has a Penis, Masturbation, Sleepy Sex, canonverse, handjobs, i have feelings about Lexa and masturbation ok?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 18:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10577439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: Lexa is supposed to do everything for her people: choose for her people, sacrifice for her people… even sleep is only necessary so she can better serve her people when she wakes. Touching herself hardly falls in that category. It is, by definition, a selfish act. But she has learned how to be selfish once in awhile. Clarke has taught her the importance of selfishness (or, as Clarke calls it, caring for herself).





	

**Author's Note:**

> So @alphacommander on tumblr drew some really really hot art of Lexa waking up with an erection and trying to masturbate without waking Clarke, only for Clarke to bat her hand away and take over. So... I wrote it. *cough*
> 
> It was meant to be modern au (which is why the underwear and pillows look modern in the picture) but I set it in canonverse because I had *feelings* about Lexa not always taking care of herself bc she uses up all her energy being Heda. And I like to think Clarke has taught her to be a little more selfish (in the healthy way).
> 
> Anyway, enjoy. And as always, follow me @raedmagdon on tumblr.
> 
> Oh, and... THIS AUTHOR 100% SUPPORTS TRANS LEXA OK? Ok.

The first thing Lexa feels upon waking is an ache between her legs. It is throbbing, persistent, and strong enough to draw her from the comfortable darkness of sleep. She blinks, groaning quietly when she realizes it’s still night. The sky outside her window is black and her bedroom is full of shadows.

She turns to one side. Beside her, Clarke is still slumbering peacefully, golden hair splayed across her pillow. Lexa exhales in relief. On nights when Clarke is not in Polis, in the bed they share, she can scarcely sleep at all anymore.

Clarke. Lexa sighs, closing her eyes again and searching once more for the sleep that has eluded her. Instead, fragments of a dream drift back to her, flashes that direct her attention between her thighs again. She remembers Clarke—dream-Clarke, at least—scattering kisses between her breasts, sliding down her stomach, taking her shaft in a soft fist and kissing the tip…

Lexa twitches, straining against her smallclothes. She isn’t unaccustomed to waking with this problem, but as she stares down her body, she realizes it’s somewhat larger than usual. Her length has formed a tent beneath the sheets.

She tosses and turns, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it’s useless. Her cock is hard enough to hurt. Her mind is filled with Clarke’s warm lips and wicked tongue. It’s certainly a pleasant change from the nightmares she used to have, but it won’t allow her to sleep either.

For a moment, she considers waking Clarke. It wouldn’t be the first time the two of them have come together in the middle of the night, when the rest of the city is asleep and Lexa can pretend they are the only two people in the world. But one glance at Clarke’s peaceful face quashes that idea. Lexa cannot bear to disturb her. She isn’t the only one who suffers regular nightmares.

She rolls the other way instead, facing away from Clarke and settling on her side. After a few seconds spent worrying her lip, she makes a decision. This problem won’t go away on its own. She doesn’t want to bother Clarke with it. That leaves only one option: taking care of it herself.

Lexa slides the tips of her fingers down along her stomach. Her touch is hesitant, slightly uncertain, but her inner debate has already ended. She pauses for just a moment as she reaches the edge of her smallclothes. This isn’t something she does often. Before Clarke, she’d rarely had the desire, not counting the brief bliss of her relationship with Costia.

There had been a large portion of guilt as well.  _ Heda _ is a servant as well as a leader, and Lexa is supposed to do everything for her people: choose for her people, sacrifice for her people… even sleep is only necessary so she can better serve her people when she wakes. Touching herself hardly falls in that category. It is, by definition, a selfish act.

But she has learned how to be selfish once in awhile. Clarke has taught her the importance of selfishness (or, as Clarke calls it, caring for herself).

Lexa’s hand slips beneath her underwear and draws her cock out.

Her stomach muscles jolt as she wraps her fingers around her shaft. It’s more sensitive than she’s expecting. The base radiates heat and pressure while the tip twitches against the cool air. She circles her thumb and forefinger, squeezing the puffy head. Although it’s hard to see in the dark, what little light there is shows that her slit is glistening.

She repeats the motion a few more times, using the ring of her fingers to tease the tip, but her shaft demands a firmer touch. She forms a fist instead, giving herself a slow pump.

It’s a strange feeling. These days, she is used to having Clarke do this for her. She closes her eyes, thinking back on the dream. Clarke had been so willing, so eager to take her in. If she imagines hard enough, she can almost pretend the heat of her hand is Clarke’s willing mouth.

She tries to stroke herself as Clarke would suck her, focusing on the upper half of her length, swiping her thumb around and around the head and pretending it’s Clarke’s tongue. Her palm doesn’t quite measure up, but it’s close enough, and she’s desperate. She works a little faster, burying her heavy breaths in her pillow. She has to be quiet or else…

Even though she hasn’t made a sound, Lexa feels Clarke stir behind her. She stops what she’s doing, holding perfectly still. For a moment, she thinks she has succeeded, but then Clarke rolls over, draping an arm around her waist and snuggling against her rear.

Lexa swallows a gasp. Her cock gives a needy throb. Clarke’s scent is closer now instead of just in the sheets, and Clarke’s firm breasts are pressing against her back. She isn’t quite sure, but she thinks she can even feel the stiff points of Clarke’s nipples through her thin shirt.

The next few seconds seem to stretch forever. Lexa can’t continue stroking, but neither can she bear to pull her hand away. Her cock is leaking onto her fingers, and she is in desperate need of release. But with Clarke so close, any movement might wake her.

Lexa is trapped…

… until Clarke’s hand comes to rest on top of her own, peeling it away from her shaft to take its place.

She squeezes. Lexa whimpers.

“Clarke…”

“Shh,” Clarke mutters, nuzzling past her loose hair and placing a kiss on the back of her shoulder. It’s close to the nape of her neck, right where the infinity tattoo is. “Let me.”

Lexa cannot resist. She can only huff into the pillow as Clarke takes up stroking. Clarke’s hand is warm and it knows exactly how hard to grasp.

To her relief, Clarke does not tease. She pumps Lexa’s cock with purpose, sliding from base to tip, pausing only to gather some of the wetness dripping from the head to make her motions smoother. Lexa offers her more, drizzling clear strands over Clarke’s fingers. Now that Clarke is touching her, the fullness within her is double what it was before.

It is impossible for Lexa to keep quiet. She moans through trembling lips, softly at first, then louder without meaning to. As always, Clarke is her undoing.

“Shh,” Clarke says again, whispering into her overheated skin. “It’s okay.”

Lexa’s cock pounds with unreleased pressure. Her heart is pounding just as hard, but her clenching hands burn for Clarke. She can feel Clarke’s plush body draped against hers from behind, and something in her needs to feel more of it. She knows Clarke is still half-asleep, she can hear it in her lover’s voice, but maybe… maybe she can at least turn over.

She stops Clarke’s hand and rolls over, seeking a moment of connection. Perhaps it is selfish to demand it while Clarke is so groggy, but…

Clarke does not think it is selfish. She doesn’t object at all. A sly smile spreads across her sleepy face, and she takes Lexa’s cock back in her fist, pulling her up and over.

Lexa braces herself on her elbows. She has no idea what she is doing. She had merely wanted to look at Clarke’s face, and now she is hovering over Clarke’s splayed form. Arousal has sharpened her senses, and she can make out a few details in the dark: Clarke’s shirt has ridden up, revealing the soft, pale curve of her stomach.

“Clarke,” she rasps, fighting the urge to thrust her hips with everything she has.

“It’s okay, Lexa,” Clarke says again, staring up at her with gentle eyes. There is only love and acceptance within them. “Just come.”

_ Just come. _

Those words open the floodgates. Lexa’s pelvis jerks and her abdominal muscles go rigid. A pool of warmth begins at the base of her spine, but it soon spreads, racing through every inch of her body and releasing through her cock. She spends all over Clarke’s stomach, emptying herself in sharp spurts.

Clarke doesn’t stop stroking her. In fact, she speeds up. She leans up to kiss the side of Lexa’s neck, coaxing her with words as well as touch. “That’s it, Lexa. Give me all you’ve got.”

Lexa keeps spilling onto Clarke’s belly, unable to help herself. Her hips quiver a few times, but she can’t find a rhythm. She is at the mercy of Clarke’s hand. She can only sigh in relief as she watches the pearly strands of her release paint Clarke’s skin.

At last, she has no more to give. She collapses, careless of the way her come smears against her own belly as their bodies come together. Clarke lets go of her cock, leaving it to soften between them.

“Better?” she asks, sounding much more awake than she had moments before.

“Mm…”

Lexa, for her part, is tempted to fall back asleep. She shakes off the cozy blanket of relief after a few moments, however. It wouldn’t be fair to leave Clarke unsatisfied after such a generous act. She is a servant of her people, after all, and Clarke, her love, her other half, is her favorite person.

She slides one of her hands up along Clarke’s thigh, delighted to find wetness waiting for her. Her cock might need a few moments to grow hard again, but she has perfectly good fingers, and she knows just how to use them.


End file.
